Live, Lose, Love
by MOLTENblue
Summary: Losing a loved one makes us remember the value of those still living. Namiku.


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_**live, lose, love**_

_I don't own Kingdom Hearts_

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In the early hours of the morning, a young woman was tying a young man's tie. Her pale hands worked skillfully at the silken object and in no time it was secured around his neck.

"No clip ons for you," she said, smiling sadly and tapping the male's nose with her finger. He responded by shaking his and planting a kiss on her forehead. Then he wass shrugging on a crisp black blazer, tucking his tie in before buttoning it. That last action, however, proved to be difficult due to the fact that his hands were shaking rather vehemently. The girl saw this and ran to the rescue, not even caring that while he was nearly ready she was still in her pajamas.

"Naminé," the young man said suddenly, catching her thin wrists in his hands. Platinum eyebrows came together as he shook his head once more. "I've got this. You go...you go get ready."

After a moment's pause, the young woman complied, rushing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. As she dressed, the male youth fumbled with his buttons until they went into their proper places. After this, he began untucking his dress shirt. When he was done, he took a seat on the bed and put his head in his hands.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he muttered, shutting his eyes tightly. When the bathroom door opened, he sat up straight and glanced that particular direction, nodding when he saw that Naminé was ready.

"Riku, tuck your shirt in!" Naminé protested jokingly when he stood, but her humor didn't ring true. No matter how wide her smile became, both knew it's happiness wasn't quite genuine enough to pass by.

With a shake of his head, Riku walked out of the room and down a small flight of stairs, looking back only to make sure Naminé was following him. It wasn't long before they were both eating breakfast at the kitchen table, TV blaring various commercials at them.

Then the news came on. Riku visibly stiffened while Naminé simply turned her gaze out the window.

"As you know, a few days ago a dearly beloved youth passed away from us. Today is his funeral and we would like to honor him with a few words of remembrance," the reporter says before turning to his coworker.

"Sora Hikari was a lively fellow with a big heart," the woman began slowly, making it obvious she had not known Sora at all. "In his spare time, you could always find him helping at the children's center or animal hospital or even helping one of his many, many friends with a problem. He is best known for his prominence in his high school's Key Club organization, a club that dedicated itself to servicing humanity, and being recognized by King Mickey of Disney Castle as an outstanding citizen. His service is toda–"

And with that, the TV screen prominently faded to black. Naminé jumped at the sudden silence, then turned her sky gaze to her companion. Riku was currently holding a death grip on the remote control, his knuckles white with the force. Sighing, Naminé covered his hand in hers and tried to search for the comforting words that usually came so easily.

"They didn't know him," said Riku suddenly, voice angry and tense. "They act like they do, but they don't. There was more to Sora than community service! They could've said how good of a sword fighter he was, how much he loved swimming even though he sucked at it, how he kept trying until–"

"Riku," Naminé interrupted quietly, "Riku, it's the news. They never get anything right. The funeral...the funeral will be better. I promise."

With that, Naminé lifted her hand from the silver haired youth's own, letting it linger in the air until his met it. Their fingers intertwined, staying that way even as they rose. The minute they were both in the car, their hands were together once more, neither one wanting to let go of the other due to a mutual understanding that each could be Sora in the blink of an eye. Even as Riku rose to give a memorial speech, Naminé was right behind him, handing him tissues when it was needed and even using them herself from time to time.

In fact, the only time she and Riku ever separated at the entire funeral was when Naminé convinced Riku to let her go check on Kairi. She had found the once to-be bride sobbing in the parking lot and then had deftly sat down and cried with her.

Roxas was taking things a bit more stoically than even Riku, who had merely shed a few silent tears. To Naminé, those tears were enough for a lifetime. Her brother, though...he merely stared angrily at the pew in front of him, trying to resist ripping the bible that rested at knee-level in half.

That was Roxas: the person who solved everything with some kind of violence. It probably didn't help that Olette was there. The two hadn't broken it off too smoothly and the fact that he was now dating another guy probably didn't help it either.

"I miss him," the blonde had said to his sister. "He was the best cousin I'd ever had."

Naminé had merely nodded in agreement, feeling uncomfortable due to the fact he and Riku were failing to give each other their customary death glares. They actually shared a few civilized words here and there, which was quite a change for the blonde girl.

The rest of the funeral was a blur, something Naminé didn't want to remember vividly at all. Her memory faltered after her small talk with Roxas, jumping to the car ride home.

"You look...nice in that dress," Riku had muttered, glancing her way and giving her the weakest of smiles. She had returned the compliment (only instead of dress it had been suit) before going back to staring out the window.

Now she was in her bed, staring up at the ceiling with dull eyes. It had been awhile since Riku had dropped her off and gone home, but somehow she couldn't get herself to sleep. Images of her cousin kept running through her mind, his smile and laugh and goofy jokes. She didn't try to collect herself when she saw dark blotches begin to appear on her pillow and she barely noticed when another presence suddenly invaded her bed, its warm arms snaking around her body and pulling her close.

"Don't leave me, Naminé," a voice murmured into her ear, warm breath making her shiver. Her only response was to bury herself deeper into the grasp currently surrounding her and silently drift off to sleep.

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**End Note: **Bah Just a bit of a crack/angst story at two in the morning. Hope you somewhat enjoyed it.


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